Peacekeeper
by yellow 14
Summary: Cleric Susan Vandom finds and adopts a baby drow she finds in the wreckage of a village she helped take from the drow. Twenty years later, the young drow finds herself being the only thing stopping the Elven Prince Phobos from restarting the war.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If you seriously thought I owned W.I.T.C.H or D&D you are seriously mistaken

AN: I've changed the way the D&D universe behaves in certain parts to make it feel more believable to me and to suit the story, although for the most part I've kept things the same.

Cleric Susan Vandom felt her arm vibrate as the drows sword slammed against her shield. Twisting hard, she slammed her own blade into the other woman's chest. To her right, she saw her husband, Thomas Vandom getting steadily pushed back by another drow warrior, this one a huge brute of a man.

Spinning on her heel, she spun towards the drow man and rammed her blade into the drows side. Thomas frowned at her.

"I could've taken him." He snapped.

"You're welcome!" Susan replied sarcastically. Her marriage to Thomas had slowly fallen apart over the course of the past few months. After the birth of their daughter Will, their marriage had steadily fallen apart.

The fighting was fierce, but by the end of the day, the drow were driven out of the village. After two months of occupation by the drow, the village was theirs once more.

As Susan entered one of the buildings, she heard a cry in the corner. Turning to face the origin point of the cry, she saw an overturned cradle with the name Taranee on the end. Carefully she lifted it up.

Underneath the cradle lay a drow baby, a year old at most. Tossing the cradle aside, Susan bent down and picked up the crying child.

"Shh little one." Susan whispered to the crying child as she cradled her in her arms. As she rocked the baby in her arms, the child steadily dropped off to sleep. Susan smiled to herself. In that moment, Susan silently promised this little drow girl that she would raise her as if she was her own.

Turning, she walked outside, the drow baby in her arms, she was approached by none other than her husband Thomas.

"Where are you taking that thing?" he asked, his voice dripping with contempt.

"That 'thing' as you call it, is a baby girl." Susan snarled in reply. "And I'm taking her back home with us."

"Just kill it and be done with!" Thomas snapped back. "If you're going to bring that thing into our home, then don't expect me to live under the same roof with it. And I'll take Will with me as well."

The words were barely out of his mouth, when suddenly, Susan smashed her shield into Thomas's face, knocking him out cold.

"Don't ever threaten me like that ever again." She growled. Twisting on her heel, Susan ran for home. When Thomas came to several hours later, Susan had left their home village of Fadden Hills and well beyond his influence. Letting out a roar, he swore vengeance on Susan Vandom.

* * *

Twelve years later.

"C'mon T, just a little higher." A little redheaded girl called down to a drow girl of roughly the same age.

"I dunno Will. I don't like it this high up." Taranee replied timidly. "I think it has to do with the fact that us drow are meant to be BELOW ground, not hundreds of feet above it."

"Come on, I'll help you up." Will said as she stretched her hand down. Grabbing it, Taranee pulled herself up.

"Remind me why we're up here again." Taranee asked Will.

"There's a nest of dragons up here T. I just want to take a look, that's all." Will replied in a voice so pleading, Taranee almost laughed. For as long as Taranee could recall, Will had always been a real animal lover. She was also Taranee's best friend and Taranee knew that she would follow Will to the ends of the Earth if need be.

Steadily climbing to the mouth of the cave, the two girls peered in at the nest of dragons in front of them.

"Aren't they cute?" Will asked Taranee in a quiet voice, a look of pure ecstasy on her face. And Taranee had to admit they were certainly beautiful. She still didn't want to be around when mummy returned though. A fully-grown dragon was not something she wanted to annoy, not by a long shot.

A huge shadow passed over them and Taranee slipped. For a few seconds she was rolling down the mountainside and then there was nothing as Taranee flew off the edge of mountainside.

"Taranee!" Will screamed.

Taranee flailed about as she fell. She knew that the fall would certainly kill her and that flailing her hands would do nothing to change that, but that didn't stop her subconscious mind from not trying to stop her descent. Suddenly, she felt herself land on something relatively soft that slowed her down. Sitting up, she saw that she was sitting on the back of a dragon. A black dragon. Blinking twice, Taranee rubbed her eyes, convinced that what she was seeing was not possible.

"You're welcome." The dragon said snootily, jerking Taranee out of her shock.

"You can talk!" Taranee exclaimed and then let out a small mental groan. He was a dragon, of course he could talk!

The dragon chuckled. "The name's Peter." He said in a laid back voice. "And I believe that you have great potential as a dragon disciple. You called to me and I responded."

"I called to you?" Taranee asked, puzzled.

"Yes you called me." Peter replied and although Taranee couldn't see his face, she felt sure that he was rolling his eyes. "Are all humanoid children so ignorant?"

"No…you surprised me, that's all. I wasn't even aware I called you." Taranee replied, still feeling a little uncertain.

"Where do you live little drow?" Peter asked in a laid back voice. "I need to know where to put you."

Taranee felt a surge of panic flood through her at the thought of the effects of Peter landing on her doorstep would have. Already widely distrusted because of her drow heritage, Taranee could only imagine what would happen if she landed in the town on the back of a black dragon, a creature that was long associated with evil.

"Land near the town please. I don't want to cause a panic." Taranee said in Peter's ear. Peter nodded.

"A good idea Disciple. Neither your kind, nor mine are exactly noted for getting on with humans." He agreed.

"Yeah and I think that my dear old mum would hate for us to get chased out of town by an angry mob." Taranee added with a grin. Settling down on the north side of Heatherfield, Taranee dismounted.

"I'll see you soon, trust me." She whispered to Peter. "I'll return with my mum and sister. As soon as possible."

"Wouldn't have thought a drow woman would want to settle here." Peter said as he looked at the town. Taranee grinned.

"You'll see, soon enough." She replied and with that she turned and walked into the town.

* * *

Will, meanwhile had scaled down the mountain in record time, determined to get to Taranee as soon as possible. It was her fault that T had even come she thought to herself. Reaching the foot of the mountain, Will realised that she couldn't see Taranee at all. Frantically looking around, her mind finally caught up with her.

"The best way for me to find Taranee lies in me coming back with a search party. And the temple's the best place for me to find help." She said to herself. With a plan (of sorts) in mind, Will charged into town.

* * *

As Taranee raced into town, she was suddenly tripped and sent sprawling.

"Where do you think you're going, you stupid monster?" asked a girl with a dark hair in a bowl cut.

"Doesn't she realise that her kind aren't welcome here?" a second, slightly taller girl with almost identical hair added.

Taranee groaned to herself. She really didn't need to meet up with the Grumper sister's right about now.

"Courtney, Bess. I'm just trying to get home." Taranee replied, her voice level. While the Grumper's weren't much of a threat by themselves, their cousins, Uriah and his gang, were notoriously vicious.

"Drow filth like you belong in the ground!" Courtney spat at her, kicking Taranee in the ribs.

"Yeah, scum like you shouldn't be allowed to mix with decent folk!" Bess added as she kicked Taranee in her other side.

"What you mean like just about every person who isn't related to you?" Taranee asked sarcastically. Probably not the smartest course of action, given her position, but Taranee always did have a temper.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Courtney screeched at her. "Our bloodline is far superior to yours, you evil creature."

As Bess swung her foot to administer another brutal kick, Taranee grabbed her leg and pulled her over. Courtney let out a screech of rage and was about to throw a punch into Taranee's exposed jaw when someone ran into her and they ended up in a pile.

"Out of my way Grumper's, this is an emergency!" the mystery person practically yelled.

"Will?" Taranee asked as she stood up.

"Taranee?" Will asked in a disbelieving voice, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Taranee grinned. "It's me, alive and in the flesh as it were."

Will pulled Taranee into a tight hug, whispering "I'd thought I'd lost you. How…."

"Let's get mum, there's something I need to show you both." And with that, they both turned and headed towards the temple of Pelor, where their mother Susan Vandom was. The Grumper sisters stared at their retreating backs.

* * *

A fast moving staff caught Susan Vandom and knocked her flying across the room.

"Too slow Mrs Vandom, too slow." Her opponent told her in an infuriatingly calm voice. "If this had been a real fight and not a training fight, you'd be dead by now."

Susan looked up and grinned. "Good thing most people aren't as fast as you Luba."

"Be that as it may Mrs Vandom, there's still a chance that you might meet someone with my speed." The tall, elvish woman replied peevishly. Susan was saved a reply by Taranee and Will bursting in.

"Mum there's something we need to show you." Taranee shot out breathlessly. "It's really important."

Susan raised an eyebrow.

"Mum, it's something I'd rather show you." Taranee added, pre-empting Susan's question.

"Then lead on."

* * *

Taranee looked nervously at her adoptive mother and sister. She knew that they loved her as family, but would they accept this new facet of her life? Silently, Taranee prayed they would.

Susan looked at Peter with an inscrutable look on her face. "So you're the reason my daughter isn't dead?" she asked in a neutral voice.

Peter snorted. "The child is pure drow. You are clearly not her biological mother. But yes, I am the reason she's still here."

Susan stepped forward and hugged Peter. "Thank you" she whispered. Will on the other hand stared in amazement.

"Wow!" she exclaimed when she finally spoke. "This is..amazing."

Taranee smiled. It was going to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If I owned W.I.T.C.H or D&D, would I really be writing fanfiction about it?

AN: As Nelo Akuma has been unable to answer my question as to what the official term is for the top matriarch in a drow family is (namely because there isn't one, as far as he knows), I have opted to use the Drowtales term of Il-Haress for Chief Matriarch. Thanks for your help anyway Nelo. A thanks also belongs to XV-Dragon for his help in setting this story up and for providing the initial inspiration for this story with his fic 'The Shunned One'. XV, Nelo sends his regards.

The door slammed open. Servants and slaves alike scattered, determined not to be caught in the path of Il-Haress Theresa Cook. While Theresa was generally one of the fairer mistresses in Maerimydra, it was still a good idea to stay out of her way when she was in a bad mood.

"What's wrong with the Il-Haress?" Alton whispered to Chadra. Chadra looked at him with amusement.

"Silly boy!" Chadra whispered back with a giggle, her violet eyes dancing with amusement. "Haven't you been keeping track of the days? The Il-Haress has to deal with the council today and Cleric Miranda is attending."

She didn't need to say any more. Il-Haress Theresa Cook's dislike of Cleric Miranda was well known throughout the underdark.

"If you two can stop wasting time, we have work to do!" A tall drow woman called over to them. "The Il-Haress wants her chambers cleaned while she's at her meeting."

Chadra and Alton rolled their eyes at one another and smiled as they set to work.

00000000000000000000000000000

"Are you ready to meet your maker little drow?" Luba taunted as she faced Taranee, her staff out in front of her like a sword.

"What makes you so sure you'll win, little elf?" Taranee taunted back. Unlike Luba, she had a pair of intricately forged long knives held out in front of her.

Luba laughed and with a speed that was almost superhuman, she attacked. Luba's staff span so fast that it was little more than a blur. Taranee parried the staff with the knife in her right hand. As the other end of the staff flew up towards Taranee's face, Taranee stepped aside and the staff flew past Taranee's ear.

Taking advantage of Luba's momentum, Taranee swung her the hilt of her left blade at Luba's head. But the old elvish warrior was far too wily to be caught like that and she span away from Taranee with incredible grace.

"Nice try, but I've fought enough drow to see that coming." Luba snarled. Taranee nodded and spun around on her heel in a lethally fast spinning kick. It didn't connect, but Taranee hadn't intended it to. As the kick spun past Luba's face, Taranee used the kicks momentum to launch herself into the air. Still spinning, Taranee brought both of her blades down towards Luba's head. Luba parried, pulling her staff directly between her and Taranee. As Taranee landed, the two glared at each other, both breathing very hard.

The bell for evening prayers rang and both of them relaxed. Taranee sheathed her knives and Luba stowed her staff away on her back.

"You're improving." Luba said quietly to Taranee. Luba bowed. "I am impressed."

Taranee returned the bow. "Thank you Luba." She replied. "May I ask a question?"

Luba motioned for her to continue.

"Well, most clerics use maces, but no-one here uses them at all. May I ask why?"

Luba gave Taranee a smile. "I'm not surprised you've noticed. Tell me, have you ever seen the damage a mace does when it hits a persons head?" Taranee shook her head. "Well, long ago, well before even I was born," Luba chuckled, "Yes there was such a time. Anyway, when our order was founded, it wasn't by a cleric of Pelor."

"Really?" Taranee asked in surprise.

"Yes really." Luba chuckled. "It was founded by a monk of the Order of the Cobra. Her name is lost to history, but her aim when she founded this order was to provide a sanctuary for those warriors of Pelor who need it. But, having seen the effects of maces firsthand, all the clerics who join are trained to use other weapons."

"I see." Taranee replied thoughtfully. She was pretty sure that mum had never trained to use the mace long before she came here though and Taranee made a mental point to ask her about it. Stepping out of the training hall, Taranee was met by a very friendly dormouse. The little creature jumped up unto Taranee's shoulder and gave her an affectionate nibble on the ear.

"Hiya Will." Taranee said with a smile. Jumping off Taranee's shoulder, the dormouse changed shape. Growing to Taranee's shape, red hair appeared on the dormouse's head. Soon, the figure of a curvy young woman began to form, while the eyes began to change into dark brown human ones.

"How did you know it was me?" Will asked crossly as the transformation came to its conclusion. Taranee raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"Will, I was there when you changed. You thought that you couldn't do it and wanted me on hand to keep you calm."

Will huffed and Taranee just laughed.

"Will," Taranee started in a consoling voice, "Not only are you a natural at transforming, I have no doubt you'll be an excellent druid. Besides, you've been doing druid training since you were fourteen. Just don't change in front of people you want to surprise."

"Thanks T. I knew there was something I liked about you."

"I should hope so too." A voice boomed out. Taranee and Will both winced. Turning towards the voices owner, Taranee and Will came face to face with a familiar black dragon that they both knew very well.

"Thank you Peter, I'm sure we needed to be deafened." Taranee deadpanned. Peter snickered and stretched his wings.

"Are you ready to fly, little drow?" he asked.

"Peter, I'm sixteen years old. I think I'm a little to old to be called 'little drow' any more." Taranee countered.

"I'm a dragon. Of course you're small to me." Peter countered. "Now climb on."

Lowering his head, Taranee climbed onto Peter's back. Will grabbed Taranee's hand and was helped up behind Taranee. Stretching his wings, Peter took off.

"I fail to see your point, Il-Haress Cook!" Cleric Miranda snapped angrily, tapping one of her eight legs. As a drider, a creature blessed by Sharess to have the torso of a drow woman and the body of a spider, Miranda was an intimidating sight to behold. "Surely you can understand that the Eryn mines belong to the Temple of Sharess."

Il-Haress Theresa Cook swallowed hard and narrowly avoided glaring at Miranda. Taking a deep breath, she looked Miranda in the eye.

"I'm not denying the territorial claims that your temple has on those mines. I'm not pretending that the dwarves have no right to those mines." Theresa paused for a moment. "But I remember, as do all of us," Theresa gestured to the council, "the chaos and brutality of the last war." There were a few nods and sounds of agreement at that statement.

"We are drow!" Miranda snapped. "Sharess's chosen people no less! Surely we are not afraid of a group of mere dwarves!"

"But it's not just the dwarves we'd end up fighting, is it?" Gurina Hunzrin pointed out. "They are not the only ones who profited at our expense."

"That's right. Those pestilence-accursed humans will side with them." Amalica Khalazza added. "We have not recovered enough from the last war to engage them in a full scale war." Raising her hand to stop Miranda from speaking. "I still seek revenge for the death of my twin sister, but I will do it on our terms, not theirs."

"And our elven cousins will happily fight us. They hate us with a passion and us them." Jhalass Baenre finished. "They were the ones who resisted the peace accords longer than all the other factions of the allied forces. I should know, I was there."

"Yes, your skills as a diplomat are noteworthy." Miranda snapped, an edge of sarcasm in her voice. "But is that because you care for the well-being of our people, Il-Haress Baenre, or because your family is breeding cowards these days?"

It was perhaps fortunate for Miranda that Il-Haress Theresa Cook stepped between them. The look on Il-Haress Baenre's face was positively murderous and despite the fact that the council chamber was meant to be neutral ground, it was pretty clear that she would have seriously hurt Miranda.

"ENOUGH!" Il-Haress Cook snapped. She turned and faced Miranda. "Miranda, I will put your outburst down as a youthful mistake. Do not repeat it." Theresa then turned to face Il-Haress Baenre. "Jhalass old friend, calm down. We know you are no coward."

Il-Haress Baenre sat down, her anger still smouldering.

"What of our former allies, the goblins and kobolds?" Amalica Rrostarr asked. "Surely we can call on them?"

Chakos Baenre shook his head. Although he wasn't an Il-Haress, he had earned his place on the council as the chief negotiator with the other underdark species. "The kobolds are at war with themselves once more. Without a king, they are once more divided into their various warring tribes." He paused and shook his head once more. "The goblins have a new king, but he is still busy consolidating his position. I severely doubt that he will even consider helping us. Indeed, I suspect that he would rather lead a conquest of the kobold kingdoms, or even ours."

There was a sudden wave of protests in response to his words. As the protests slowly quieted down, Vhaidra Uoswiir jumped in.

"Goblins are opportunists. While I doubt that they would attempt to seize our realms as things stand, if we were engaged in a brutal war with the dwarves and their surface allies, then they may well see it as an opportunity to seize valuable territory. I counsel diplomacy as a solution, or at least that we bide our time."

Miranda sat down in silent despair. Theresa Cook held too much sway with the council and Miranda's allies on the council were simply too few to give her what she desired. Closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose, Miranda let out a mental sigh. If only something DRASTIC were to happen, she thought to herself. Then she could lead the drow to greatness once more, in the name of Sharess!

Despite the fact that Taranee was used to flying, it was Will who spotted the attacked caravan first.

"Hey Taranee, look!" Will called out, pointing down to the caravan. Taranee followed Will's arm and saw exactly what she was pointing at. A group of orcs, men and half-orcs had surrounded a merchant caravan and were clearly trying to rob it. Elf caravan guards were holding off the attack, but it was clear they were being overwhelmed. In the centre of the group stood two elf magic users.

Nudging Peter, they dived onto the attackers. After making a swift pass over the outer edge of the attackers, green acid shooting out of Peter's mouth, which burnt and dissolved all those caught in its path. Unfortunately, some of the attackers were too close to the caravan for Peter to hit them all. He landed and the two girls dismounted.

"Now watch yourselves." Peter admonished to them. "I would be most annoyed if you got killed Will Vandom."

"Thanks for your concern Pete." Taranee said with amusement.

"Oh I don't need to worry about you, you're tougher than these guys." He replied blithely "Will is less so." And with that statement, he charged off to pursuade the remaining bandits around the perimeter to leave.

Will angrily waved her fist at Peter's retreating back. "I'M HARDLY HELPLESS!" she yelled. Peter ignored her. Drawing her sword, a long katana blade, Will charged the attackers with a yell. Taranee followed suit, her long knives glinting in the evening sun.

The first bandit Will met was a human woman, with sallow skin and short red hair. As the woman swung her axe at Will, Will dodged the swing and moved in with a sharp stab forward with her sword, running the blade into the woman's chest.

Taranee meanwhile took the orc that was standing to the woman's left side. Activating a spell of dragon-strength, Taranee grabbed the orc and slammed him into the ground so hard, his head exploded.

"Taranee!" Will exclaimed as blood and gore hit her. "Do you mind?"

"Sorry Will." Taranee said with a smile as she spun under the blade of another orc and slashed her knifes across his chest and into his lungs. "I didn't think it would be so messy."

"Yeah, well next time, don't make his HEAD explode." Will countered, spinning her sword through the neck of the remaining bandit. "I HATE having to clean brains out of my clothes."

An arrow shot past Taranee's ear from the caravan, causing Will to yell, "We're on your side!" in the direction of the offending shot.

"That's good to hear. Who are you?" An impetuous and commanding voice demanded.

"Will and Taranee Vandom, from the nearby monastery of Pelor!" Will called back. Slowly, the occupants of the caravan stood up to greet them. Standing in the middle of them, with an air of authority, stood two elves. The man had long white-ish-blond hair, with cold eyes that seemed contemptuous of everything. On his chin was a small beard. The other elf was about the same age as Will and Taranee. Although her long hair and eyes were almost identical to the mans, her eyes were kind.

"I am the Eldritch knight Prince Phobos." The man began. He gestured to the young woman beside him. "This is my sister, the sorceress Princess Elyon. You will show us due respect due our place."

"Thanks for your help." Elyon said, cutting across her brother's talk. "Would you be so kind as to guide us to your monastery?"

"Of course." Will replied and the caravan started moving again, following Will and Taranee.

AN: Yes, I know the drow worship chaos and that driders are supposed to be cursed, but it seems illogical to me for a society that worships a spider goddess to revere chaos, when spiders are not chaotic by nature. And it also seems illogical for a society to regard driders as cursed, when the drow worship a spider goddess. That's my take on the idea anyway, you are free to make up your own mind.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: If you've gotten this far without reading the disclaimers, you're not about to start now.

As the caravan approached the monastery, a large, four legged creature, jumped up and knocked Will to the ground.

"Ahhh, stoppit Khor!" Will exclaimed giggling. "Taranee, help!"

Taranee grinned at Will. "Not a chance. It's your fault for going into a fight without him."

"Such a common mutt." A girl sneered from behind her. Taranee and Will turned and glared at the owner of the voice, a tall wood elf girl with long blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Cornelia, don't be so nasty." Elyon chided her gently. "They did save our caravan from the bandits."

"Well as long as that mutt stays away from me, I'll be happy." Cornelia said and walked off.

Phobos, on the other hand, was gazing up at the monastery with interest. As the clerics and monks approached, he tapped the shoulder of a passing monk.

"Is this the Order of Pelor's Staff?" He asked and the monk nodded. "And the current home of the legendary cleric, Susan Vandom?"

"I'm afraid that I do not know." The monk replied. "You'll have to take it up with the head of our order, Mistress Luba."

"Very well then, I will." Phobos sneered angrily. But he felt a shimmering of hope. He was pretty sure that this was the place and Cleric Vandom was a legend in her own right. Her help would be most welcome and if she wasn't persuaded by his reasons, then he always had another card up his sleeve.

W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C.H

Il-Haress Theresa Cook growled as she skimmed over the intelligence reports coming from her eastern borders.

"What's up love?" Lionel asked as he came up behind her. Theresa kept her frown.

"The Formorians are building up troops on our eastern borders. They claim that they're conducting military exercises, but I don't like it."

"You don't trust them." Lionel stated baldly as he started massaging her back. "It's been four centuries since we last fought them and you're thinking that they'll try again."

"Yup. Four centuries ago, when I was just an eager young Matriarch, determined to lead my troops into glorious battle against our former oppressors." Theresa's face darkened. "I was a fool back then. War isn't glorious or pretty, but when the alternative is to return to being a conquered people, we don't have a choice."

Lionel gave a shiver. Although the Formorian Empire had fallen over ten centuries ago, tales of their cruelty and malice still echoed down the centuries. Every once in a while, they convinced themselves to try again. And every time they failed.

"Agreed." Lionel said finally.

W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C.H

"Good evening Mrs Vandom." Phobos said as he sat down beside her. "May I talk to you about a matter of some importance?"

Susan raised an eyebrow. "A matter of some importance?" she asked.

"Yes." Phobos replied and he paused for a moment. "If I recall correctly, you were a part of the daring expedition to seize the Drow capital of Maerimydra, an act of supreme courage and da-"

"Cut to the point, your majesty!" Susan snapped at Phobos.

"I was curious as to why you failed." He said firmly. "Your group left with two-hundred of our Imperial Archers and some thirty adventurers of various types. I would have thought that you would have been able to flatten the drow in one swift stroke."

Susan gave a bitter laugh, while Taranee pricked her ears. Taranee was curious to learn about her biological people. Will on the other hand was busy talking to Elyon, who she seemed to have clicked with. On the other side of Elyon, Cornelia was talking to Elyon as well and Taranee had privately admired the way that the elf princess was able to maintain two conversations at the same time. However, the subject Phobos had just brought up caught her attention.

"Oh yes, we thought that a relatively small group like ours could punch a hole through to the Drow capital and hold it. Who could stand against us, with our superior archers and artillery and ADVENTURERS?" Susan asked in a sarcastic voice. "We were foolish. The Drow knew we were coming and they watched and waited. After the first three days marching without so much as a scratch, we began to think that we hadn't been detected." Susan paused and shook her head. "How wrong we were."

"But surely, with elf archers, they couldn't get close enough to be a threat?" Phobos asked. Susan gave another bitter laugh.

"Archers are only good if they can see their targets. The Underdark is dark and vision is limited to around two hundred yards. Because the Drow have a type of heat vision, they could see us long before we could see them. They hit us for the first time that night, a small group of fast moving soldiers swept through our camp and killed almost twenty-five soldiers for no casualties."

"Impossible!" Phobos exclaimed.

"We never even saw them coming. They had been watching us for days and they knew precisely when and where to hit us. And from that point on, it got worse."

"Worse?" Phobos asked. Cornelia meanwhile, excused herself from the dinning table.

"Much worse." Susan said. "The second night, we camped in a stalagmite field and we were much more alert for drow attackers. But those stalagmites weren't stalagmites. They were drow-trained ropers. In the middle of the night, the ropers attacked. And while that was happening, the drow hit us from the outside." Susan's face took on a haunted look. "We did fight back a lot better this time and they didn't get away scot free."

"Was that all? Surely-"

"No, we were still able to continue. But as we got closer, the number of attacks increased, we ran into booby traps of spider silk. Ropers ambushed us at random points and with their silken pipes, we found sleep difficult to get at all." Susan paused and looked Phobos in the eye. "By the time we reached Maerimydra, we only numbered a mere one hundred fighters, ragged and demoralised by the constant wearing us down. We didn't stand a chance against the cities defences."

"And they just let you retreat when you were beaten?" Phobos asked incredulously.

"No, they chased us as hard as they possibly could. We had attempted to invade their homes, their families. They were determined to wipe us out and the only reason we survived was because we crossed kuo-toa territory."

"The kuo-toa were happy to let you across their borders?"

Susan gave another bitter laugh and shook her head.

W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C.H

High above the dining room, Cornelia drew back her bow with an arrow nocked. She was determined not to miss her target.

W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C.H

"The kuo-toa were in the middle of a bloody civil war. They simply didn't have the forces spare to stop us." Susan explained. "It didn't stop them from inflicting casualties on us, but it saved us from the drow."

A sudden movement caught Taranee's eye and with extraordinary speed, she leapt forward and knocked Princess Elyon aside as an arrow flew out of the higher reaches of the hall. The arrow thudded into the wood exactly where Elyon's head had been only seconds previously. As the elf guards charged towards the site where the arrow had come from, Elyon turned and faced Taranee.

"Thank you." She said calmly. "You just saved my life."

Taranee smiled. "That's ok. Just doing what anyone else here would've done."

W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C.H

High above, Cornelia let out a curse under her breath. She'd missed her target and now she had to leave before she was caught. Tossing aside her bow, she slipped away.

W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C..W.I.T.C.H

Phobos frowned as he looked at his sister. His assassin had failed and now his sister was on alert. She had better not fail him again.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I've said it before and I'll say it again. I DON'T OWN.

AN: I have a poll on my profile as to which fic I should focus on when I finish Swordmaster. Feel free to vote.

"Seize her!" Phobos yelled angrily, pointing at Taranee, a fierce look in his eyes. "She has touched the royal personage far beyond her station and is no doubt in league with the assassin!"

"Brother, this girl has just saved my life. Do you really think that she would have done so if she were in league with the assassin?" Elyon asked with an equally fierce look in hers. "Would you be so foolish as to arrest my rescuer? Would you make a mockery of the fairness of the Elven justice system and undermine the divine right of the elvish monarchy?" she paused and turned to face Taranee, her face taking a calmer, friendlier expression. "I thank you for saving my life young drow and I will happily grant you your freedom."

"I'm not a slave!" Taranee hissed angrily, before storming out of the hall. On the way, she almost collided with Cornelia who was going the other way.

"I heard the commotion. What happened out there?" Cornelia asked in a condescending voice. "Did you lose your temper and kill one of the serving staff?"

"I'm not some savage!" Taranee hissed. "Unlike you elves with your assassins and double-dealings and your ridiculous accusations. I am not a fool or a violent savage who can only respond with mob justice and heavy-handedness." Taranee paused for a moment to nod her head towards Prince Phobos. "Although with idiots like him as your future ruler, I shouldn't be surprised that the elvish court is filled with bimbos like you."

"I am no bimbo!" Cornelia snapped angrily and for a moment Taranee could have sworn that Cornelia's eyes changed colour from icy blue to a blank white, but if they did change, it was only for a second. "And I would prefer you not to talk about my fiancé like that!"

"Your fiancé?" Taranee asked in shock and Cornelia sniffed.

"Yes, my fiancé. Our two families arranged our match when we were children," Cornelia said with a sniff. "So if you'll excuse me, I must return to the meal."

Taranee continued walking away, her anger stopping her from thinking of anything other than how much she wanted to punch that arrogant prince and his pretty little fiancé with her pretty little nose. In her opinion, there had never been a better match between two people. Both were selfish and stupid and bigoted and nasty. Reaching the dojo, she pulled out her training blades and began a simple kata. She was so wrapped up in her anger that she failed to hear a knock on the door.

"Hello? Can I come in?" a girl's voice asked, although she couldn't tell whom. "I need to talk to you."

"Come in!" she shouted back and the door creaked ever so slightly open and with all the presence and authority of a mouse, Princess Elyon slipped into the dojo. Taranee was so stunned by the completely different attitude shown that her brain refused to believe that this was the same girl she'd saved earlier.

"I wanted to apologise for what I said earlier. It was…" she paused as she fumbled around for the right word. "Wrong." She finally said, as she looked Taranee in the eye. "It was wrong and I shouldn't have said it." Taranee raised an eyebrow and Elyon continued. "The only drow I've ever seen before today have been slaves of one kind or another, mostly from the war."

"Aren't you worried that this big bad drow is going to try killing you too?" Taranee asked sardonically and Elyon chuckled.

"I think that if you wanted me to die, you would have just let me be killed as I ate," Elyon pointed out, before extending her hand. "Besides, there has been too much hatred and war between our two people."

Taranee was stunned. To encounter a wood elf who didn't hate the drow on principle was rare, but to hear this coming from the mouth of a member of the elf royalty was as unexpected as seeing a flying pig.

"Thank you again," Elyon said, before turning to leave. "Just remember, we're not all so viciously anti-drow."

"Yes, I see," Taranee, said in a slightly dazed voice.

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Miranda tapped her foot impatiently as she read the reports about the Formorian activity on the borders of drow territory. The formorian's actions would make the council even less likely to agree to a conflict to retake the Eryn mines. There was little point in waging a war to retake lost territory, if the lands at home were threatened. Perhaps new allies could be found, or at least another enemy of the dwarves, giving the drow the opportunity to retake the mines with minimal effort, could distract the dwarves.

Sitting down, Miranda began to mentally list all of the underdark species that might be persuaded to join in such an endeavour or at least could be tricked into going to war with the dwarves.

Firstly were the formorian's of course. Their aggressive approach to other underdark species and a desire to regain their former glories meant that there was little doubt that they might easily take the opportunity to attempt to take dwarven territory if they thought they could. Miranda quickly dismissed the idea. The formorian's might be expansionist, but if they could take the dwarf mines, then they would move on to drow territory and the rest of the underdark. Besides which, if there was even a hint of drow involvement with the formorian's, then the rest of the underdark would no longer trust the drow and that would scuttle any plans Miranda had.

Then there was the illithids. The mind-flayers were notoriously slow to come to a decision on anything and they were still on the fence when it came to joining the Underdark Alliance. Shar only knew how long it would take to persuade them to actually agree to be the aggressors in a conflict.

There were the aboleth who were strict isolationists. It was doubtful if they could field much of a fighting force on land anyway and the azer who were cut off by the ocean. Miranda's face soured as she continued mentally listing the species that she could recruit from the underdark.

The dark ones had recently joined in a strictly defensive alliance with the drow, but the treaty was strictly defensive, they couldn't rely on them to join a war of aggression, even to retake lost territory.

The marilith always welcomed the opportunity to fight. As a strongly martial people, they relished the chance to fight, but there were only a handful of them in the whole underdark. During the war they had amounted to a single regiment, barely worth noting. The beetle-like mezzoloth were little better, they too fielded a mere handful of available warriors and unlike the marilith, they were strictly mercenaries who demanded to be paid and the dwarves could probably hire them to fight against the drow.

Miranda continued angrily tapping the floor, while all around the temple, novices and priestesses alike found reasons to avoid her office. Miranda however didn't notice the absence.

The grimlock, troglodytes and without a king, the kobolds, were divided into many tribes and were so primitive that it would hardly be worth enlisting all of the tribes, even if they could be persuaded to avoid killing one another.

Tap, tap, tap. Miranda's leg continued to tap as she continued counting down her options. The kuo-toa had just finished a bitter civil war only a couple of years ago. There was virtually no chance of them joining any such campaign, while the goblins knew full well that there were easier pickings to expand their empire than the dwarves.

In short, there was no species or people who could help her obtain her goal in the underdark. The only way that the drow would fight such a war would be if…Miranda's eyes suddenly widened and a devious smile appeared on her face. Yes, that way would work. Pulling a travelling cloak onto her shoulders, Miranda walked out of her office and walked up the wall to talk to the head of special operations.

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Hidden in the shadows, a female figure with long hair watched as Princess Elyon crossed the courtyard, flanked by her two bodyguards. Making a killing shot as she passed would be suicidal. Not only would her bodyguards probably stop any shot hitting her, it would also certainly draw the fire of her other protectors and probably result in her death. With a sigh, the figure pulled herself back onto the roof and ran a hand through her hair. She needed to work out another means of killing the girl, but until a new opening presents itself, there is little that she can do. Suddenly a blade flashes in the darkness as another shadowy female figure suddenly catches the first and with a sharp swish, a knife slashed her throat open and with a gurgle, she died.

"You should not have attempted to kill the Princess!" her killer hissed angrily, before disappearing into the night.

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"Is it safe to approach my Lord?" a hissing voice asked Prince Phobos in his quarters and he swiftly cast a spell of none-observance.

"Cedric, your report!" Phobos snapped out and a long figure of a long green yuan-ti emerged from an alcove behind him and on his face was a red mask across his eyes, a mark of dishonour amongst the yuan-ti.

"My Prince, I have found a number of rare texts that refer to the magic that you seek and I believe that I have located seven parts of the spell," Cedric hissed and Phobos smiled.

"Good news indeed. But surely they must be fewer in number than seven parts. Even the most complexed of spells only require five parts at most."

"That is true my Prince," Cedric said with a bow. "But this is a spell of unusual and great power, far more than that of a normal spell."

"Where are these parts of the spell to be found then?" Phobos asked impatiently with a wave of his hand. "I assume they are not easily found."

Cedric nodded. "They are indeed hard to obtain for the ordinary folk, but for us I have no doubt we can obtain them." He paused for a moment. "There is one located in the Royal Library in Meridian, under the protection of at least a dozen magical guardians and several protection spells that I have yet to discover. One is located in the vampiric wastelands of the East, property of the formidable vampire lord Dy'ashra, a powerful foe even by the standards of vampire lords. The aboleth Temple of Many Tides holds yet another piece, however I have discovered that the temple was abandoned some time ago and the aboleth have forgotten the purpose of the spell."

"A clearly negligent mistake. We should have been granted to take charge of all seven pieces from the start," Phobos said angrily.

"I am surprised that the Harpers didn't try to destroy the spell," Cedric admitted and Phobos laughed.

"They lacked the power to perform such a task and the wisdom to use it properly," he said. "Those Harpers were weak fools. The world lay at their feet. They could have built the greatest empire ever known to exist and instead they break the spell up." He paused for a moment and shook his head. "Such a waste."

"I see my Prince," Cedric replied respectfully with his head bowed and Phobos looked at him.

"You said there were seven pieces. Where are the remaining four?" he asked and Cedric bowed his head once more.

"The Medusa Temple on the far side of Vampiric Wastelands hold a part of the spell and it is guarded by an extensive network of defences that remain hidden to the eye and the shadar-kai hold another as a trophy of war and although they don't know the history of the object, they regard it as precious. The Great Library of Candracar has a part of it in the vaults and it is arguably the best defended part of the spell." Cedric paused as he considered how to mention where the next part of the spell was kept.

"And where is the final part Cedric? Tell me where it lies?" Phobos demanded and Cedric's face took on a look of disgust.

"It is held by the drow Temple of Sharess, my Prince," he said and Phobos's face curled up with disgust.

"Drow!? They gave a part of the spell to those vermin!?" he shouted and Cedric nodded.

"Yes my liege. The council agreed unanimously to that," Cedric said with a nod and Phobos spat angrily.

"To separate the spell was bad enough, but to give it to those worthless creatures was a crime of epic proportions!" he hissed as he hit the wall with his fist. "Our degenerate cousins are hardly suitable hosts for a part of such power." He snarled again and spat angrily. "The drow are nothing but a race of schemers and traitors

"Perhaps I should be the one to obtain the objective my Prince?" Cedric suggested with a bow and Phobos shook his head.

"No, there are other plans coming to their conclusion that will require your presence here," Phobos said firmly. "Plans that concern my sister."

"Very well my Prince," Cedric replied with a low hiss.

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"Will, Taranee, have you heard the news yet?" an excited voice practically screeched at them and Taranee winced. There was only one person who that voice could belong to and she was not surprised to see the shocking pink skin of the temple's resident teenage doppelganger, Searra Kento as she bounced into the room.

"What news?" Will asked groggily as she squinted at the vivid colour Searra's face. "And can you please pick a less bright colour this early in the morning?"

A wave crossed Searra's face and her skin changed colour to a deep violet.

"Is that better?" she asked, before continuing anyway. "A body without a face has been found in the monastery!

"A body without a face? Do they know who it is?" Taranee asked as her mind began racing and Searra shook her head.

"No, but I've heard rumours that one of the elves from the Royal Court is missing. Apparently Prince Phobos is ranting to the head of the order about how this place is unsafe for anyone of elvish origin, with doppelganger spies and the like." Searra paused and giggled girlishly and Will let out a low whistle.

"Bet that went down well," Will said in a low voice and Searra giggled again.

"So well that Luba threatened to kill him I hear," she said with a smirk. "Apparently he wants everyone to be subjected to a reveal spell on everyone here." Searra paused and made a face. "I hope they don't. I hate the way reveal spells set my teeth on edge."

"You said one of the elves is missing. Do you know which one?" Taranee asked and Searra nodded.

"Oh yes. It's supposedly Prince Phobos's fiancé, the Lady Cornelia Hale," she replied and Taranee grimaced. This was not going to be easy to defuse.


End file.
